I get teased by my colleagues.
There are nights that they go to the opening party for a new designer boutique and drink champagne and eat canapes whilst I go to book club.
There are weekends that they spend going to parties and clubs whilst I paint my dining furniture.
There are Fridays which they spend in bars drinking and smoking whilst I hang blinds in my bathroom.
But never have I been so aware of my being a middle aged lady in a thirty-somethings clothing as when doing the crossword this weekend with friends. Having poured over the downs and the acrosses for some time, and got to the point of having only the really hard clues left, she read out a clue she knew I couldn't possibly know the answer to.
"Glass for drinking a large measure of sherry."
I missed not a beat. "Schooner."
She looked at me in a whithering way and, with some scepticism, checked the dictionary. And I sat with my head down, realising that somehow, in 2010, I became my own grandmother.
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